Liar
by Calico Yorki
Summary: She has lied, she has stolen; but her love for her home cannot be refuted, by those who truly know her. - My attempt to get at the essentials of the Zafara Double Agent's character, which many writers of Neopets fanfiction - myself included - are hard pressed and oft unable to effectively portray. Crime and Suspense, though more genres will crop up.
1. guile

In a lord's fortress in northern Meridell, a rolicking party was underway. A few petpets had been slaughtered for the feast's most honored guests, and the lord of the fortress himself - an imposing Gnorbu with a thick, pleated beard - sat at the head of the table, laughing loudly and shouting his approval of the minstrels and dancers. However, he had no inkling of the intruder deep within his home's stone walls.

With footsteps silent, her cloth-wrapped paws making nary a sound, the Zafara Double Agent treaded the deep inner passages of the fortress. On a strap around her chest, she carried an archer's quiver; repurposed to store stolen documents. By the dim, flickering light of torches mounted in iron sconces, she navigated the fortress's deep recesses which no commoner had ever seen in their life. Passing by countless wooden doors, she ignored them for the most part. This was until she drew up to one particularly heavy door.

This door was thrice-locked, and supported by iron bars across its planks. It was plain to see that this room was exceptionally important, and this made it a prime target for the Double Agent. Thus, checking both directions of the hall twice, she reached up under her dress's sewn-in hood. From a pocket in the hood's lining, she removed a small set of lockpicking tools. This lord had been prudent in whomever he'd commissioned for the locks' design, but they were still years behind those developed in Darigan and Brightvale. As such, it took a rather short time for her to open the first lock.

Both of the other locks were picked in quick succession. Glancing about, the Double Agent backed up to the door to keep a watch. Easing the door open and snatching a torch from its sconce, like a ghost, she swiftly and silently darted into the room. With the door closed behind her, the Zafara of faded hair appraised the room. It was very dark, lit only by the torch that the Double Agent had thought to bring with her. Illuminating the sconce to the door's immediate left, she found it bearing an unlit torch.

A touch of her torch ignited the pitch-coated illuminator, while she placed the one she carried into an empty sconce. This lit the room well enough that the Blue Zafara could discern what exactly she was working with. Two long tables, a bookcase covering the height and breadth of the far wall, and innumerable documents, ledgers, and books scattered about. Up on the wall, the Double Agent could recognize maps detailing troop movements. The most complex of these, denoting some elevated importance, were promptly snatched. Rolling them up, the Double Agent tucked them into her quiver, and began to quickly scan the other documents for anything that her client would find desirable.

Then, came the voices chatting, and the sound of bootclad footsteps. Taking no pause, the Zafara made an agile dive beneath the table she stood at. Staying far from the door, she forced herself to make no loud noises. The voices stopped right outside of the door, she could see the ruddy, wavy shadows cast beneath it by the torches. One seemed to tell a fine joke, as the other burst into laughter. Not budging an inch, so as to not unnecessarily rustle the papers scattered about her, the Double Agent waited patiently for those outside to pass.

And indeed, they did. Their shadows went beyond the range of sight, their voices and footsteps faded to indstinct echoes far down the hall. Still, the Zafara Double Agent waited for a good two or three minutes after nothing could be heard of them. Cautiously slinking out of her hiding place, she began to look through the documents in no hurry. That is not to say that she tarried - in under ten minutes, she had extracted every piece of strategy relevant to her employer's demands. Lord Kass would be pleased. Well, he would for a time. That might come to an end sooner than anticipated.

As she left the door closed behind her, having had to pick the locks a second time - _Re-locking design,_ she had mused to herself; _that could get an upstart agent flustered into a panic. Kass will want to know to anticipate such a thing, for future spies._ - the Double Agent made her way, slinking without a stray noise towards the exit. On the way, she slid an unremarkable scroll out of a pocket in her vest, and deposited it nonchalantly in with the rest of the documents. It was a perfectly-forged replica of a letter 'to be sent' to King Skrarl.

Kass would be wroth when he found that the lord's urgent distress was a figment of the scroll and nothing more, and that his troops were not struck by any such thing as a plague in the water supply. That little device had been of the Double Agent's design, and crafted to a nigh perfect similarity by a document forger that the Blue Zafara had known since youth.

Yes, Kass would be wroth, for certain. No betrayal went unpunished, once it was discovered, least of all those by the ones who had claimed to defect to his allegiance.

Now, whether or not he would survive the mistakes wrought by this and other fallacies...

...Yes, that was an entirely different matter, was it not?


	2. Crossing the Rubicon

In the dark, cool night, on a dusty path that wended through the Meridellian countryside, a single cart rolled along. Pulled by a Red Uni, the cart carried a mass of straw, stacked in one corner, as well as a table; some chairs; a wooden crate; and a pile of pillows and quilts. It would appear that the weathered Orange Shoyru farmer guiding the cart had been forced to relocate the better portion of his belongings. With his freckled cheeks and the shaggy brown bangs obscuring his eyes, as well as his gangly build, he seemed young for the rough texture which was apparent on his skin.

Like this, in silence, the Shoyru and Uni made their way along in the almost mystical night. The evenings in this part of Neopia had the kind of quality that one expected to find in faerie tales; small wonder, as most were set in some proximity to this region of the world. Soon after crossing into Brightvale, however, he was stopped by a group of guards. Their leader, an Orange Kougra with amber or sunset-hued hair tied back in a braid, looked the cart over. "Sir," she said calmly and professionally, "my name is Brynneth, a ranked Officer of the Brightvale Guards. As a matter of protocol, we are required to search all carts and carriages which cross into our country. Please, give us a moment." The farmer nodded.

Although he showed no signs of duplicity, something about him gave Brynn the most distinct impression of false dealings. She made it a point not to give her _specific_ rank, as that was always a tip-off to criminals who would then get desperate; and thus, like a cornered beast, ever the more dangerous. _Innocent until proven guilty_, Brynn practically admonished herself in her thoughts, _never vice-versa._ As her men looked the cart over, she struck up a conversation with the farmer. "So, sir," Brynn began genially, "what brings you to Brightvale?" She never let the search out of her field of notice.

The Shoyru spoke in a surprisingly deep, but soft voice. "Me mum and pa were farmers, 'til the Darigan Wars took 'em from me." Brynn winced out of reflex; she anticipated great feelings of guilt by the time his story was over. "I made me life on grain and straw, but there was no one who could afford to buy it. Then I ran outta money, and had to sell me land to the king just to have enough to pay for me food for a time. I think he musta not been well himself, or at least not payin' attention, because I'm most confident that me land weren't worth the gold he gave me." This nearly made the Guard smile; King Skrarl could be a kindly leader, when he wasn't busy being a general old scruffy oaf.

"So," the Shoyru continued, "I used what money I could to purchase a cart and hire a Uni, and decided to ride to Brightvale. I was hopin' that I could sow some seeds, on some land that a right gentleman let me buy on his visit to Meridell, and make me new living there." Nodding, Brynn said no more. This 'Pet was so genuine and humble in every respect, but Brynn had the most uncanny sense that he was not telling her something. Whatever it was, Brynn hoped that it wasn't something that he would get in trouble for; all the same, some awful dread impelled her to think the contrary.

However, there was nothing to show such surrepticious activities in the cart. The straw stack was empty of all living things, save for a few startled petpetpets; the beddings were all far more devoid of life than even said stack; while the crate contained a table cloth, and some paintings, and nothing else. For good measure, the guards looked under the cart; nothing could be found. Brynn sighed, "I apologize for interrupting your visit to our country, sir. Please, do not let this spoil your time here - I hope you have a wonderful stay in Brightvale. Good luck, and if you need anything, stop me on a patrol." With a smile, she led her Guard subordinates off on patrol once more. The cart rolled on.

When it came to a house, near a fairly large field, the Shoyru easily carried each of the items other than the straw - yes, the crate included - into his new home. His narrow limbs belied a surprising strength. Once the cart was unpacked, he led the Uni from alongside it into a stable nearby. Undoing the reins, he let the Uni clop his way to the other side of the cart. "Fyora's wings," he snorted, tossing his head whilst the 'farmer' began to toss the straw into a new pile in a corner of the floor, "I hate having to play the part of the beast of burden. I'd not do it, t'were there an easier ploy. It amazes me that a sharp lass like that 'Brynn' would fall for such an old trick." He eyed the Shoyru as he ran his hand along the cart's floor.

Finding an almost-hidden groove in one board, then running his other hand along until he found the second, the Shoyru removed the cart's false bottom. From within, a Blue Zafara with a head of faded hair got up, rolling her shoulder. The Double Agent seemed in a bit of a state of disarray, yet never once lost the practiced, graceful ease in her movements. Though the Shoyru offered a hand, she politely declined, and instead rolled herself over the edge. Landing expertly on her cloth-wrapped paws with hardly a rustle, she took a moment to smooth out her skirts.

Then, she looked over the two. "Caracc, Darter," she said to the Shoyru and Uni in turn, "I thank you for the grave risks you have taken in assisting me. I swear, this mission is not done for the sakes of undermining Meridell, Brightvale, nor even Darigan. This is done for the sakes of a friend whose kindness persists through his curséd malady, and who once helped me during a part of my life which still haunts me. I will not ask that you have any part to play in my machinations. All that I desire of you is to please, please, give me a place to stay. Please, let me have a place to call home, for more than a night.

"Regardless of whether or not you can give me that," she continued, a soft accent fading into her voice, "I do beg of you: do not give up the new life you've found here for me. If someone who knows of my history comes to your door, turn me in, and act for all the world as if you had no idea. If you two were to suffer, and lose all of this...My heart would break." Her voice had turned uncharacteristically soft towards the end. Not knowing what else she could do, the Zafara Double Agent knelt and bowed her head to the two before her.

Then, Caracc knelt down before her; still more than a head taller. A hand on her chin, he tilted the Double Agent's face up to look at him. Her eyes glimmered softly, but she had no sign of emotion on her face. He didn't need that much to see her worries and pain. "Milady, I will only ask this of you in return for staying here, while you go about your task." He proceeded to rise, and dusted her off politely.

He said with a sheepish smile on my face, "Milady, please, remember...There are very few in this world who deserve your bowin' to. You have been brave enough to risk your very life n' limb for the country I love, and did it knowin' that you'd never be seen as a hero, or that you might even come across as a villain. Please, all I ask...Never bow to _me_, of all people."

The Double Agent's eyes swam, but with the most ladylike smile, she nodded to Caracc. "I will do as you ask, my friend," she said softly. The two looked over at a neighing laugh.

Darter snorted with laughter, stamping his hooves a bit. "You two be the most charmin' combination I ever did see." He guffawed as the two looked blankly at each other.

This little comment got Darter a dinner of oat grain.


	3. Beyond the Scope of Her Understanding

In the northern forests of Brightvale, there were four or five oddly-shaped hills. They were steep, topped with brush and brambles, and angled in a zig-zag. It often took an embarrassingly long time for someone new to the area to realize that Mother Nature did not fashion these hills. No, they were made by the hands of Neopets. Specifically, the Neopets of Brightvale's widely revered and just as widely feared Forest Brigade.

The Forest Brigade never returned to the castle. No one knew how many there were, as they would recruit lost travelers and orphans in the night. What many knew was that Neopians far and wide feared them. Some said that they were not obligated to obey the "kill as a last resort" credo that defined Brightvale's Guard. They would flicker out of the trees, either Shadow Pets or 'Pets who had spread black ink over their fur, kill anyone who tried to approach Brightvale through their domain, then - based on the few survivors they left to be imprisoned by Guard patrols - they simply melted into the night.

Not without reason, many claimed that the entire Brigade were ghosts.

In the misty morning, a certain Orange Kougra had come to sit in front of the ramparts which had been built by the Forest Brigade. Between reading passages in a text on a part of Brightvale's history, Brynn peered up at the silent, solemn sentinels at the forests' edge. It was an eerie sight, staring at those grassy battlements. They didn't _look_ like Neopets could have made them - then again, they weren't nature's doing, either. It was almost akin to seeing something that an Earth Faerie would fashion, to protect her home.

With a start, Brynn realized that she wasn't alone. As the mist rolled away, there, off to the side, she saw someone who resembled a Meridellian peasant woman. She was a Blue Zafara, wearing drab skirts and blouse, with faded bangs beneath her hood. A finger on her lips, she was reading a truly massive tome; adorned on the front with a large staff, twined 'round with two serpentine petpets. Her large, sky blue orbs flicked over, and in a velvety soft voice, she uttered something that Brynn didn't quite catch.

Rising to her feet, Brynn made her way over; now thoroughly intrigued.

... ... ...

"Drat," the Zafara Double Agent whispered.

The morning fog had seemed pleasant enough, but it had apparently veiled both she and that Kougra from each other. Yes, _that_ Kougra. The Zafara Double Agent recognized Brynneth, recently-appointed Captain of the Brightvale Guard. Three spies who had helped her acquire the skills she had today had all been captured, due to this young woman's admittedly admirable new management of the Guard.

Nonchalantly marking her place and closing her book, the plume of her tail twitching idly, she waited for Brynn to speak. "Good morning, ma'am," the Kougra began. "It's lovely today, wouldn't you agree?" The Zafara Double Agent mulled over this greeting for a while. Despite her own shabby attire, and despite this young lady's pristine uniform in opposite, the Orange Kougra hadn't an askance look to send her way.

"Yes," she said, just above a whisper, "the air in Brightvale is heavenly. Wonderful for a little bit of outdoor reading." The Zafara Double Agent offered a hand to shake. "My name is Gertrud Hawthorne," she said in that soft, quiet way as Brynn took her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." Now, with the real Gertrud Hawthorne having died at twelve years of age from eating a piece of blighted potato, somewhere in Meridell, with poor documentation, it was a safe bet that no one in Brightvale would refute this name.

Brynn shook the Blue Zafara's hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hawthorne," she brightly said with a smile. "My name is Brynneth, of the Brightvale Guard. Please, though, call me Brynn. By the way; if you're looking through that book for advice on a medical issue, then I know a good place to find more on the subject!" _Perhaps,_ the Double Agent mused, _this excursion to Brightvale has a more pleasant side._

This was about the time that the Double Agent was drawn up onto her feet in one swift movement. "Come along, then," Brynn smiled, "I know that we can make it before it's time to open! We might be able to grab a bite to eat along the way!" The Blue Zafara could feel an exclamation bubble to her lips before she could stop it.

"Oh my giddy aunt," she murmured. This Kougra was possessed of some outstanding vitality.


End file.
